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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27888247">Anthony</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweetnpinnk/pseuds/Sweetnpinnk'>Sweetnpinnk</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action/Adventure, Anastasia AU, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Human AU, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memory Loss, Slow Burn, Suggestive Themes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:07:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,379</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27888247</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweetnpinnk/pseuds/Sweetnpinnk</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Since the night of the devastating attack on the Romani mob family, Anthony Romani has been missing. Fifteen years later, a strange ad reveals that one of the Romani children survived and she's offering a reward for her brother's safe return. Husk and Alastor are two conmen living in the shadows of New York City's underworld and come up with a scheme to find and groom their own "Anthony" with the intention of pawning him off for the reward. When they happen to stumble upon Angel, an orphan living as an infamous courtesan, who has no memories of his childhood but happens to have a remarkable resemblance to the missing boy, they're quick to snap him up into their scheme.</p><p>However, as Angel learns more about Anthony's past and begins to reclaim his own, a dark shadow that he never truly escaped from chases at his heels, threatening to destroy not only the chance of recovering his lost past, but also any hope for a future.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Angel Dust/Husk (Hazbin Hotel)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>86</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Have You Heard?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>CW for this chapter// Blood, Murder, Claustrophobia</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The December cold was biting tonight. Anthony grinned at the dark sky, sticking out his tongue to catch another stray snowflake. Rubbing his hands to get the blood flowing back into his numb fingers, he breathed out a warm, foggy cloud which his sister vigorously waved away.  </p><p>“Tony, stop it.” Molly laughed and dramatically pinched her nose. “Your breath stinks.”</p><p>“Make me.”  </p><p>“I’m older, so ya’ have to listen to me.”</p><p>Anthony gaped in betrayal. “We’re twins!”</p><p>“I was born a minute earlier. It counts.” Molly retorted with a grin. As fraternal twins, they shared very little in appearance except for a few things. Along with their mother’s blond hair and their father’s dark brown eyes, Molly’s sharp smile always had an identical angle of mischief to his. That one they shared alone.</p><p>“That doesn’t count for shit.” Anthony rolled his eyes. Just as Molly was no doubt about to tell him off, a sweep of warm light fell over the twins as one of the paneled glass doors opened behind them. The vibrant and jazzy music that had been previously muffled spilled out with it.</p><p>“Aha! I knew it.” Before either twin could get a word out, an arm had scooped them each from behind and into the air without warning. Molly shrieked and Anthony kicked out. “Thought ya’ could sneak out and no one’d notice, did’ya?”</p><p>“Put us down, Niss!” He fussed. His older brother chuckled, heaving them a little higher in reply.</p><p>“Jeez. You guys are way too heavy for five years old.” Giovanni gasped, letting them wiggle out of his grip. He smirked as they stumbled to regain their footing.</p><p>“We’re ten, ya’ fuckin’ asshat!” Anthony glared, arms crossed. Molly stifled a laugh while covering her mouth, and looked the other way. Giovanni’s eyes narrowed. He held up a cautioning finger, and it almost could’ve been a perfect mirror of their father. Except where their father towered and loomed, Giovanni was short and scrawny. Coming from him, the gesture wasn’t even half as scary, not to mention stupid looking, trying to be all like their Pa. Anthony had half a mind to say so.</p><p>“Ya’ better watch that tongue o’ yours, Tony. I ought’a rinse your mouth out. Be grateful the old man didn’t hear ya’.” Giovanni said. “Who taught you ta’ speak like that?”</p><p>“You did.”</p><p>Giovanni blanched, his finger wilting. A flush crawled across his face. “Shit. If ya’ say anything to Ma-”</p><p>“I won’t tell if you don’t.” Anthony smirked. That was a dirty lie. He’d definitely learned all that from his Pa, but it was fun to mess with his brother. Despite being fifteen and acting like a big know-it-all, it was nice to kick Niss in the knees every once in a while to remind him to not go getting too big a head. Figuratively of course. And literally, but only on special occasions or when he really pissed him off.</p><p>“Anyways,” Giovanni cleared his throat. “You guys should come inside. Ma’s wondering where ya’ are. More of the Family’s arrived and she wants to pony you around like the good little angels ya’ are. Ya’ know the deal.”</p><p>Anthony drooped himself over the gated railing with a groan. “But it’s so <em>boring.</em> All anyone’s doing is talking and we already had desert. There’s nothing else to do.” Their father was hosting a big party tonight in their home. He and his siblings had been forced into fancy getup on his Ma’s insistence. While he and Niss had been shoved into tight, itchy suits Anthony could only jealously eye the shimmery velvet olive dress Molly got to wear. Where the envy ended was when she’d stepped out with a sour face, her normally wild and curly hair pulled back with so many pins she looked like a cushion.</p><p>More ‘Family’ Giovanni had said. Not actually related of course, though his Pa might disagree. Men with greasy hair and greasier smiles and women dripping in gold and pearls waltzed across their floor without a care in the world, but then there were the crew always hanging around on the outskirts. Pa had disappeared early as per usual. He was "in the back", doing “business” as he so fondly liked to call it, though it was always accompanied with a charged undertone and a dangerous glint in his eyes.</p><p>Anthony Romani may not have been officially introduced to the family yet, not like Giovanni had been, but he knew enough. For years he’d watched the type of men go into his Pa’s office, scummy and shifty types of all shapes and sizes with a twitch in their fingers or a nervous hand by their pockets. Sometimes they never came out. But on the brave nights whenever Anthony would ask what had happened behind the closed doors, his father would never be explicit about their line of work. Instead, he would always wave him away, hands heavy with ringed gold, with the same scowl and the same god damn words. “When you’re older Tony.” He was older already. He wanted to be in the know, like Niss. He could take it. But his Pa apparently didn’t think so, the bastard.</p><p>“Thing is, you don’t really have a choice though do ‘ya? It is <em>your</em> birthday after all.” Giovanni smirked despite their pouting. He gripped the back of their necks and steered them into the bustling, yellow-lit, and smoky room. Anthony’s face crinkled at the thick and bitter smell. He <em>hated</em> it. It was why he’d dragged Molly outside in the first place.</p><p>Couples danced and spun around on the floor, women chittered and drank, and men yelled and gestured in a garble of rapid Italian and English. It made Anthony want to get away as soon as possible. Maybe in a bit Molly and he could sneak back to their room, but unfortunately for him Giovanni led them straight to the head table. Their father’s chair was unoccupied but beside it and looking like a queen with all the ribbons of fine jewels dangling around her neck sat Ma.</p><p>When she noticed them weaving their way through the crowd, she smiled and Anthony felt a little less on edge. How his mother, always quiet and gentle, could deal with his sullen and short-tempered father baffled him. Molly flitted over to her, giving her a delicate hug which Anthony was quick to mimic as well.</p><p>“There you are my dears. Have you finished making your rounds? I believe some of your aunts were looking for you. They've been wanting to wish you happy birthdays.”</p><p>Anthony hated their birthday for this one reason. There would always be an extravagant party with too many people he didn’t know and usually some kind of “aunt”, “uncle”, or “cousin” to wish them well before they would be paraded around for the rest of the night to the rest of their father’s guests. He didn’t understand the point of them being there at all when clearly it was never really about them to begin with.</p><p>“Don’t make that face, Anthony.” Ma scolded him, picking off invisible hairs from his suit. “They all came out to see you two after all.“</p><p>“No they didn’t.” He muttered. Molly dug her elbow into his side. Ma raised a delicate brow.</p><p>“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that young man.” She said looking him straight in the eye. “We have a good life with much we have been blessed with. That is no way to show gratitude.”</p><p>“Yes, Ma.”</p><p>“Now, before you go off, I did happen to have some gifts I wanted to give, my little mischief-makers.” She crooned and despite her piano voice, her voice tinkled like clear bells. “Hold out your hands.”</p><p>They did so eagerly. Smiling, she pulled out two small boxes laced in white ribbon and placed one in each palm. Molly eyed hers with wonder but Anthony had never been one for impulse control. Without a shred of patience, he attacked the small box, flinging the delicate wrapping God-knows-where. Pulling off the top, Anthony stared with wide, excited eyes into the box.  </p><p>Tucked into a tiny blue box, rested a chained golden heart. He stared at his mother with a curious tilt of his head. Had he received his sister’s box on accident? He wanted to pull out the chain, but didn’t want to get his hopes up.  </p><p>“Ma, I think you gave me Molly’s.”</p><p>“No, love.” Ma laughed and smiled. She pulled out the chain and let it drop into his hands. “It’s yours. Don’t tell your father. It’ll be our secret.”</p><p>Anthony nodded, heart swelling with a fresh wave of his love for his Ma. His father would <em>never</em> allow him to have something like this, but he’d been blessed with a mother who knew him anyways. As Molly unwrapped her box and pulled out a similar chain, Anthony rubbed at the golden heart. His fingers traced over fine grooves he hadn’t noticed before and he pulled the heart closer, waving it under the light.</p><p><em>Al mio angelo, con amore… </em>To my angel, with love. </p><p>His mother drew him close, placing a gentle kiss on his head. “I love you, my sweet Angel. Always remember that, darling.” Anthony had to sharply blink away the tears before anyone could see. If Giovanni caught him crying, he’d never shut up about it.</p><p>Just as he was about to pull it around his neck and tuck it into the folds of his clothes, his mother brought out another box. This one was a little bigger. “One moment. This one is for you both.”</p><p>Anthony exchanged a curious glance with Molly before they grabbed it. Molly complained as soon as he started ferociously tearing at the paper but even she was lulled into awed silence when he removed the lid. Tucked inside a nest of velvet, an ornate object gleamed. It was no bigger than the palm of his hand and shaped like a small pink egg. Molly pulled it out with care, eyeing it from all angles.</p><p>“What is it Ma?” She whispered in awe.</p><p>“Let me show you.” She answered and took it from her hands to flip it around. “See this small groove? Hand me your pendant for a moment, dear.” Anthony handed the necklace back to her and they watched in amazement as she slipped the tapered side into the thin slot and began to turn it. After several spins, there was a small <em>click</em> and a cap slowly raised, revealing a spinning angel. A soft tinkling melody began to play.</p><p>“It’s our lullaby!” Molly gasped. “Remember Tony?” Of course he remembered. It didn’t feel like that long ago when their Ma would still come in on the sleepless nights and gently sing their song until they’d floated off to sleep. Only until their father had begun to complain that they were getting too old had she finally stopped. </p><p>“Ma, we’re too old for that now!” Anthony protested, but the gentle, pure notes of the song had instantly put him at ease. It had been a long time since Anthony had heard it, but it was as if the melody had never truly left his head.</p><p>“You’re never too old for a mother’s love.” Ma teased, offering to help him chain his necklace around his neck. He ducked his head and allowed her to slip the chain over, tucking it under his dress shirt. “Either necklace will work. They were specially crafted so take good care of it and always remember those who love you.”</p><p>Angel was still watching the spinning angel when his mother pressed the cap closed and handed it back to her children. She smiled warmly.</p><p>That would be the last time Anthony ever saw her smile again.</p><p>Their heads snapped up as a loud clatter cut through the music and conversation as plates and tables were abruptly shoved out of the way. Then a woman screamed and a violin screeched, the sound of the piano ending in a cacophony as if they keys had just been smashed. And then like an infection, the screams began to spread in a wave, gradually and quickly picking up noise. When Anthony tried to crane his neck, he could only see a swarm of bodies blocking the origin of the growing chaos.  </p><p>And then the shooting started. Rapid <em>rat-a-tats </em>that peppered the air in smoky bursts of light. The screams only got louder and his ears began to ring with a high pitched buzzing. At once, his blood ran cold and his head spun. He’d recognize the sound of gunfire anywhere. As if from far away, he felt Molly’s latch onto his arm in a vice-grip, her nails clenching tight into the soft skin as fear began to take hold. Who was shooting? Where was Pa? What was happening? <em>What was happening?</em></p><p>Giovanni and Ma had sprung to their feet, sending their chairs crashing backwards. She was shouting at them, madly gesturing but all words had turned to muffled mush. The world had seemed to slow to a horrific creep.</p><p>Giovanni whirled, eyes wide with panic, and snagged onto the scruff of Anthony’s shirt. Anthony saw his mother trying to move toward them, still waving and screaming, before a bright red spray of warm droplets spattered his face. Molly <em>screamed. </em>As his mother fell to the ground, eyes wide and unseeing, Giovanni yanked them low and began to drag him and Molly backwards. Everything was happening so fast and it wasn’t <em>stopping.</em></p><p>
  <em>Make it stop. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Make it stop! </em>
</p><p>
  <em>JUST STOP.</em>
</p><p>But it didn’t.</p><p>His throat felt raw. He might’ve been screaming too. Giovanni had managed to pull them through the back set of doors, only pausing long enough to kick it shut behind him before they were running down the halls of their home. The screams were barely muffled and they continued to ring in his ears. The shooting hadn’t even slowed. The sound of doors crashing open was like a bomb. They were so close behind them.  </p><p>The part of Anthony that still didn’t understand, still <em>couldn’t </em>understand, wanted to go back. He wanted to see his Ma. To lean into her embrace and be kissed on the forehead once more and never let go of her. But the blood on his face was enough to ground him into the shattered reality that he now belonged to.</p><p>“Tony!”</p><p>Anthony flinched sharply. Molly was shaking him, as if she had been for a while, tears streaming down her face. “Anthony what’s wrong? Speak to us!”</p><p>“This is no time to go catatonic.” Giovanni cursed in rapid Italian. “Man up Tony! We don’t have time for you to be a little pussy. When I get my hands on that fucking rat, im'ma skin him ALIVE. I think they fucking got the old man already. If we don’t get out of here now, we're fuck-"</p><p>“Oi, you three! What the fuck are you standing around for? Do you <em>want </em>your heads blown off?” A boy had appeared so suddenly at their side, that if he’d wanted to they’d be dead already.   </p><p>Giovanni sputtered. “Who the fuck are you?”</p><p>The boy didn’t look like he’d come from the party, that was for sure. Anthony thought it’d be closer of a guess to say he’d come from a back alley after rolling around in some garbage or some shit but his hands were held out in a placating manner. It was possible he was one of the crew but he couldn't be much older than Giovanni. Maybe younger.</p><p>“Probably your only chance of getting outta here alive! They’re about to be right on our asses and I personally don’t feel like shitting bullets tonight. Come or not, it’s up to you.” The boy snapped gruffly and started running down another hall towards the kitchens, gesturing for them to follow. Anthony tugged at Molly's hand.</p><p>“Come on!” He shouted at her and she let him drag her forward. Giovanni hesitated for a moment before stumbling after them.</p><p>After running through the kitchen, the boy threw open a door that descended down to a flight of creaky stairs. When they had all made it to the bottom, he stopped so suddenly that Anthony and his siblings nearly barreled into him. When he’d regained his bearings, he realized that they had been led down into a dark, storage room.</p><p>“You piece of shit!” Giovanni was already yelling, face draining of all remaining color. “You lead us to a dead end-"</p><p>“Shut the fuck up already!” Without stopping, the boy balled his fists together and slammed them <em>hard</em> against the wall. There was a splintering of plaster before he was digging his fingers into the cracks that formed and pulled. Giovanni's protest died in his throat as the twins stared wide-eyed. He had pulled open a hidden door several feet off the ground, revealing a dim hole no bigger than a crawl space. A draft of cool air flowed out to meet them.</p><p>“Get in and go all the way down! The other side leads to the outside.” He waved them forward and they all flinched when another loud bang and a yell echoed from above. “For fuck's sake, GET IN!”</p><p>Giovanni didn’t need to be told again. He shoved his way through the hole and reached back to help pull Molly in first. Without warning, the boy had picked Anthony up and was swinging him into the hatch. His mind only began to function again when he heard a dull thud and Molly gasping, catching a pink and gold flash in the corner of his eye. Their music box!</p><p>Anthony felt a desperation claw its way in his throat. He was already instinctively reaching out for it, trying to go back, but the boy had him already halfway through the hole.</p><p>“The music box!” His protest might as well have fallen on deaf ears as he was shoved the rest of the way through and any chance of retrieving their mother’s last gift to them was gone. He felt Giovanni grab onto him, knuckles nearly white. Molly's body trembled as she quietly sobbed but didn’t dare make a noise. The boy was framed in shadow and for a moment Anthony thought he was going to follow after them, but he only cursed and shook his head.</p><p>“Shit.” He muttered under his breath. He sounded sad. Then his shoulders tensed once more and he hissed out one last. “Go goddamnit!” And the small hatch was slammed in Anthony’s face. In the seconds that followed, there was a series of loud scrapings and the thin edges of light slipping through the cracks were snuffed out.</p><p>“C’mon Tony.” Giovanni said, but his voice was thick with some unspoken emotion as if everything were starting to catch up with him. “They’re after <em>us. </em>We have to keep going. We can’t slow down.”</p><p>“…‘M coming.” Anthony responded numbly, but his feet had turned to lead. Giovanni tugged sharply on his shirt.</p><p>“It’ll do nothing for him or us if you just fucking sit there.”</p><p>Anthony swallowed hard, turning to begin crawling through the dingy passage. They’d only made it so far before there was the slamming of a door, some yelling and cursing, and then the indisputable shot of a pistol. He swallowed his gasp and had to clench his jaw tight to keep his teeth from rattling. That boy had just <em>sacrificed </em>himself for them. They hadn’t even asked his name and they’d just left him to die. Molly had her hands covering her mouth as Giovanni lead them on. His eyes were dazed and unfocused, but he moved resolutely forward and without a sound.</p><p>Anthony’s breaths began to grow shallow and he struggled to take deep, calming breaths to try and calm down. But it was as if the air was getting thicker and thicker, a slow squeeze against his throat as the panic rose like bile. And then his eyes started burning and he began to cough. He really was choking. Molly started coughing soon after.</p><p>And then the heat began to rise, beads of sweat dotting his forehead.</p><p>“You’ve got to be fucking kidding!” Giovanni pulled his shirt over his face and gestured for them to do the same. “There’s a fire somewhere nearby. Move <em>faster</em>.”  </p><p>It was nearly pitch black in the small hole despite flickers of orange light cutting through spaces in the crawlspace and Anthony wondered if this is what Hell was: a never-ending tunnel of darkness with Hellfire closing around you. He had no idea where they even were or who they’d just abandoned and left to die, but there was no other way but forward so on they went in the thickening air until Anthony felt like his legs were going to cramp up from the amount of crouching and his lungs must've been black with smoke. He even started to get dizzy. And then his brother was twisting around, kicking out at something. Eyes swimming and head spinning, Angel barely registered a softer darkness framing another hidden door as Giovanni kicked repeatedly at the wall they’d reached. Cursing with each smash, Giovanni kicked one final time, throwing his entire weight into it, and with a metallic groan the hidden panel popped open and a blast of icy air hit their faces. They were free.</p><p>Spilling into the icy night and onto the icier ground, they began to cough and suck in deep breaths of the freezing air which burned almost as bad as the smoke had. But this air was clean. As soon as he could take a breath without hacking up his lungs, Anthony’s ringing ears adjusted to the screams coming from nearby. They had been dropped into an alleyway tucked away in darkness that was quickly vanishing as a thriving, orange glow flickered and roared in the near distance. Wherever it had started, the fire was growing fast.   </p><p>“Hurry up!” Giovanni pulled at Anthony's sleeve and dragged them down the alleyway to peer into the street, coming face-to-face with a straight wave of people fleeing the growing spread of flames. What had once been their mansion, their <em>home</em>, had turned into a massive bonfire, monstrous devilish tongues licking high into the night. Surrounding buildings had started catching as well and it was like staring into the gates of Hell coming to swallow them whole.</p><p>“Hold on to each other. We’re making a run for it.” Their brother ordered as he took hold of Molly’s hand and her his. Anthony squeezed her hand hard before they were being pulled into the roaring crowd and plunged into writhing, panicked chaos.</p><p>They could’ve been back in that cramped crawlspace because it felt like he was choking again, all the air being squeezed out of his lungs by the shear mass of the people closing around them. Screams and shouts amplified each other and pierced Anthony’s ears as people shoved him around left and right. It felt like his arm was about to be torn off but he desperately clung onto his sister like a lifeline, felt her solid grip in his.</p><p>Molly turned to look back at him, her now ashy face streaked with soot and tears as Giovanni barreled through the crowd with that unyielding determination. She caught his eye. He saw her call his name more than heard her, her small voice swallowed by the crowd.</p><p>He didn’t know what happened. He might’ve stumbled. He might’ve been shoved too hard. But then Molly’s fingers were slipping away, slipping away, <em>he</em> <em>couldn't fix their grip</em> – then gone altogether.</p><p>She might’ve screamed his name. Might’ve screamed at Giovanni to <em>stop, she had let go of Anthony's hand! They had to go back! They couldn’t leave him behind! </em>But the screams were too loud, the air too thick to breathe, the panic’s noose too tight on the crowd.</p><p>Anthony stumbled to his knees as wave after wave of people continued to crash against him, beating against him like a never-ending tide. It was all madness and legs and noise. He tried screaming for help as he felt people stumble around him, but his throat was raw and his hands and legs were stepped on without regard, pinning him down.</p><p>Nobody stopped.</p><p>Nobody helped.</p><p>He tried crawling away, fighting his way through the mass. He screamed for Niss. For Molly.</p><p>He couldn’t breathe. He was drowning in a dark sea. He had to get <em>out before he was trampled to death. </em></p><p>Painfully bruised and disoriented, Anthony didn’t notice the stray boot sailing towards him. Barely registered the toe digging into his side, the collision sending his body spinning away like a rag doll.</p><p>His last thought was a vision of his big brother dragging Molly away as she helplessly reached out for him. He heard her shout his name one more time, piercing through the chaos.</p><p>“<em>Anthony!</em>”</p><p>His skull connected against the pavement with a solid <em>thud</em>. There was a flash of hot white pain before cold darkness collapsed around him as Anthony’s world came to a quiet end and he knew no more.  </p><p>~.~.~.~.~</p><p>
  <em>… 15 years later…</em>
</p><p>Husk groaned as he stretched out, joints popping with sharp relief. As he swung his legs over the side of his makeshift cot, he accidentally kicked out sending empty glass bottles rolling and spinning around him. His face twisted, mouth flattening as he massaged his temples to try and relieve the dull headache he’d woken up with.</p><p><em>Fuck</em> that was loud. All noise was usually unpleasant after one of his heavy drinking nights and irritation flashed through him because the bottles were still clinking. It made him want to kick them again. Scrubbing a hand over his face and blinking hard to adjust to the dim light, he caught sight of himself on the shattered visage of what had once been a mirror propped against the wall. His reflection arched a thick brow.</p><p>Damn. Only 30 and he felt like a battered old man that had been one too many times around the block. His back hurt from where a broken spring had dug into him from sleeping on a fraying mattress, his joints ached and cracked, and he looked like one too if the streaks of gray that had started striping his hair were anything to go by.</p><p>Without warning, there was an ear-splitting metallic screech as the barely-hanging moth-eaten strips of fabric that had probably once been curtains were mercilessly flung open. Husk hissed as cold, bright sun spilled into the room, flooding his vision.</p><p>“Shit, Al!” Husk cursed, pressing his thumbs against his eyelids. “Give a guy some warning next time, fuck.”</p><p>“Rise and shine, Husker my boy! Have you heard the news?” Alastor grinned at his friend, the morning rays illuminating his nearly manic smile. As soon as Husk wasn’t seeing floating spots, he glared.</p><p>“What the fuck are you being so loud about so early?” Husk grumbled. “I haven’t even taken a piss yet.”</p><p>“Charming as ever I see.” Alastor walked over to him and tapped his head with a roll of newspaper. “Page five, at the bottom.”</p><p>Instead of looking, Husk blindly grabbed for one of the bottles littering the floor but frowned when he tipped it to his lips. He chucked it away with a bitter grunt.</p><p>“I’m outta booze. That seems much more important.”</p><p>“Husk.” Alastor tutted and smacked his head with the roll harder. “I insist. I think you’ll find it a most interesting read.”</p><p>Rolling his eyes, Husk batted his companion away and snatched the paper from him. He leafed through with slightly numb fingers until he reached the fifth page, eyes skimming towards the bottom.</p><p>“What exactly am I looking for?” Husk said, eyes pinching at the small text. As the years went on, his vision had started fighting against him and it was difficult to make out text beyond a vague blur. The drinking probably didn’t help.</p><p>“You’ll know it when you see it.”</p><p>Husk continued to skim, flicking from paragraph to paragraph. He’d almost reached the end when in the bottom corner a tiny paragraph barely longer than several sentences caught his eye.</p><p>He read the lines once. Twice. On the third time, Husk’s brows had nearly reached his hairline.</p><p>In tiny typed letters that were a bitch to make out, he read: <em>Missing: Anthony Romani. Last seen in New York. For possible inquiries, contact Molly Romani in Chicago. </em></p><p>And that was it. No picture was attached. No age. No description. No actual address. No other route of communication. Just a name and city.</p><p>“This can’t be what you think it is.” Husk finally said.</p><p>Alastor cackled with glee, rubbing his hands together. “Husker, I think it’s <em>exactly</em> what we think it is. After all, you’re thinking it too.”</p><p>“Anthony and Molly <em>Romani</em>. As in the Romani mob family.”</p><p>“The one and only.”</p><p>“As in the mob family that was massacred, what, fifteen years ago now?”</p><p>“Ah-ah,” Alastor wagged a gloved finger. “But the bodies of the children were never found.”</p><p>“Yeah, but you might be forgetting the part where the house caught fire and any survivors were probably all burned alive. I bet there was nothing left of them. And you know what happened to that Anthony kid.”</p><p>“Spoil sport.” Alastor said and leaned over to tap the tiny paragraph. “Forget those irrelevant details, I think you may be missing the most important part.”</p><p>Husk read aloud, “<em>Reward for safe return: $10,000</em>. That’s a load of bull.”</p><p>“On the contrary, it’s what solidifies my belief that this is legitimate.”</p><p>“You’re making too many assumptions. Think about it, Al.” Husk said and held up a hand, ticking off his fingers. “<em>If </em>by some crazy miracle either of those kids survived, why would they blatantly put their name out like that? That family was caught up in a pretty fucking bad turf war and then after all this time, they decide to put a target back on their heads? Also, again, that was fifteen years ago. Why put an advertisement out now<em>? </em>In the fucking public newspaper? And what’s with the description? That’s almost nothing to go on.”</p><p>Alastor shrugged. “I suspect the vagueness of the description is to throw off most unsuspecting persons, but I never claimed that it made sense.”</p><p>“It doesn’t make <em>any </em>god damn sense. It’s got to be some kind of farce. Or it could all be crazy fucking coincidence.”</p><p>“Husker, my boy,” Alastor chuckled, spinning his cane with a theatrical flair. “I <em>only </em>believe in coincidences. In this mad world, I can believe in no more than that.”</p><p>Husk scoffed. “You’re insane.”</p><p>“Did I ever say I was otherwise?”</p><p>“…Good point.” Husk said, crossing his arms. “I’m starting to get the feeling that you’ve already thought a lot of this out. Alright, lay it on me.”</p><p>“In the simplest terms, I propose we venture out and find Anthony and return him to this family!”</p><p>“You don’t <em>actually </em>think he’s out there, do you?” Husk said incredulously. “I already told you−“</p><p>Alastor waved his hand. “Of course not. But what’s left of his family supposedly does and that’s all that really matters. No, my suggestion was to hold…<em>auditions</em> per se, seeking a look-a-like at the very least. It’s been fifteen years, as you're so keen to remind me. People change. That gives us plenty of wiggle room. You’ve actually <em>seen</em> the boy, so naturally it occurred to me that you were perfect for role as my partner-in-crime for this delicious scheme.”</p><p>Husk had already figured that for himself. “Molly Romani was Anthony’s twin. They might not have been identical, but if you don’t think she’d be able to tell it wasn’t her brother then you’re more than just an idiot.”</p><p>“No, no, no— you didn’t let me finish.” Alastor said. “That’s where you<em> really</em> come in my friend! You will <em>teach</em> them how to be Anthony Romani.”</p><p>“Teach them?” Husk echoed.</p><p>“Naturally. There’s no one left who’s as well-versed in the family as you are.”</p><p>“But that’s—”</p><p>“I have a contact near Chicago who makes it her business to stay informed in all kinds of business.” Alastor continued like a runaway train. “I’m sure you remember her, the lovely Mimzy. I have every confidence that she can sniff out even the most scrubbed traces. Once we have a boy and spend a little time to primp and polish him up, she would be our next destination. As she owes me a favor, she will certainly assist us in locating the remaining Romani family which I have no doubt are out there. Come, Husker! It’ll be a show quite unlike any other! Then when we dump the boy, we grab our reward and the rest is history. Imagine what you could do with that money.”</p><p>Alastor’s idea was so fucking bat-shit insane that Husk had found himself starting to believe that it could work. He rubbed at his chin, his morning stubble scratching his fingers.</p><p>Ten-thousand dollars. That wasn't something he'd exactly expected to be faced with so early in the morning as he nursed a nasty hangover. The sheer amount of money was enough to send him reeling. He must’ve still been half-asleep and susceptible to Alastor’s crazy because he had begun to imagine sleeping in something pleasant and warm instead of a thin mattress that wasn’t much more comfortable than a pallet board made of dirty rags and stuffed hay. He imagined not living in this shit hole that barely passed as a sty for animals. Imagined drinking all the booze he could want. It’d be enough to start a simple life… somewhere out in the country maybe. He could be without a care in the world, and most importantly far, far away from Alastor and whatever else fuckery he could dare to cook up and drag him back into. With luck, he’d never see the fucker again.</p><p>One last con to win it all. And the reward? The possibility of a quiet, honest living for the rest of his life if he was smart about it.</p><p>It was risky. It was downright insane.</p><p>But it was a chance at freedom from this life of crime beyond anything he’d ever thought possible.</p><p>“We’d also need solid proof. Something that seals the deal without a doubt.” Husk said slowly, but the gears had started turning. Shit, he must’ve caught some of Alastor’s crazy himself to even consider this. “And I’ve got just the thing.”</p><p>“Husk, my friend,” Alastor smiled, reaching out a hand. “I knew I could count on you. Do we have a deal?”</p><p>Husk sighed. Alastor just loved his theatrics.</p><p>“Husker, one of these days you’ll learn to trust me.” Alastor quipped when Husk didn’t immediately answer.</p><p>Husk grinned for the first time that morning and couldn’t help the bark of laughter that spilled from his mouth. Now that <em>was</em> funny.</p><p>“The day I do that,” Husk said, still chuckling. “Is the day Hell freezes over.”</p><p>And he reached out and shook his hand.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>*I admittedly only did light research on the Italian-American mafia so you might have to suspend reality for some of this fic, so for that I am apologizing ahead of time.<br/>*This fic takes places in 1920s America, but will NOT be an accurate reflection of the time period. I say this because the conflict in this fic will not be focusing on any kind of homophobia or bigotry in regards to their sexuality/identities that these kinds of characters/people would have definitely experienced back then. The intention is not to make light of the very grim reality of LGBTA+ history, but this fic isnt intended to be historically accurate. Read up on your queer history my peeps!<br/>*Husk is 30 years old and Angel is 25 in the present. Since we don't know their true ages, my canon guesstimation is that they were born within a decade of each other so I'm just making it 5 years here. I'm only making Husk an early grayer because I wanted to be a little self-indulgent as I've always had a thing for salt-and-pepper hair *swoon~*<br/>*Fun fact: based on a quick google search, $10k back in the 1920s would be approximately $135k now, in case you were wondering.</p><p>Hope you've enjoyed so far :) And sorry for the long chapter... though they're only getting longer from here. I have the next two chapters already written, but they do need some heavy edits and I don't have any kind of beta reader/editor lol. Hopefully it won't take too long to get the next one out though. Thank you for reading!</p>
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<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Journey to the Past</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for your patience and all your sweet reviews last chapter!!! I know movie AUs can be hit or miss for a lot of people, but I'm really happy that you guys like it so far :) </p><p>Thank you so much Oli for volunteering to be my beta and helping me edit!! I super appreciate it ^_^</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Angel kicked at the patches of dirty snow along the sidewalk, pulling his burgundy coat tighter around him. It was barely thick enough to keep out the sharp chill, but it had been either this one or the gaudy striped one Valentino had just bought for him. He may have been at risk of freezing his balls off, but this coat was one of the few that he, himself, had paid for and owned. One of the few things that belonged to him at all, actually. Despite having a closet-full of clothing oh-so-graciously provided over the years, he didn’t own much of it himself, and he wasn’t about to start visiting the orphanage in anything more than his own earnings.</p><p><em>I have </em>some<em> dignity left, thank you very much</em>, Angel thought bitterly. </p><p>He yanked his cap down a little tighter over his ears and the side of his face. He hoped he’d successfully covered up the worst of the bruising around his eye from when Val had popped him a couple of days ago. Luckily it was his bad side, but the area was still tender to the touch. The skin had just started turning sallow which meant it was healing quickly, but not quick enough for his yearly visit. Fuck. Figures Val just had the shittiest fucking timing.</p><p>He’d never hear the end of it from Vaggie if she caught sight of the bruise, so he’d tried covering up with some powder. He’d even considered not coming by this year, but he couldn’t bring himself to break the tradition. He had come back to the Hazbin Orphanage once a year on the same day for the past seven years, and he wasn’t about to stop now. Even if Charlie fussed or Vaggie was a nagging bitch, it was always kind of nice to see them. They were the only constants of his life.</p><p>The Happy Orphanage was a private “passion project,” run by Charlie Magne and her partner, Vaggie.  Thing was, it was so run down that those who passed through had given it the nickname of the “Hazbin”  Orphanage.</p><p>Despite all that, it still had an air of home. It had housed him for eight years, after all. Not easy ones, by any means. The food was always shit. He’d lost count of all the sleepless nights that came with the near-constant cold. Not a day had gone by when he wasn’t being yelled at for something, but he'd taken it for granted, all the same. They had never hit him. Had never abused him. Charlie may have been inexperienced and in over her head, but she had been nothing but giving. It could’ve been much worse he thought and frowned as his bruised eye throbbed. </p><p>Angel hadn’t exactly been, well, a little angel by any means either. Vaggie always liked to complain that it was because of him that she’d gone gray so early. Charlie may have smiled, but it had always been a game to get her to spit out a couple of dirty words.</p><p>There was a time he'd made her take chase and cuss him out. He'd run all throughout the house in muddy boots after throwing quite a number of their unmentionables into the trees from his window. It was one of his fondest memories. </p><p>He loved the old bats. And, for some crazy reason, they seemed to love him, too.</p><p>So once every year he would return to visit and catch up. They liked to call it his "anniversary." It was the day they'd found him wandering the streets of New York, alone. He'd been filthy, bleeding, and had a shit eye, but they'd taken him in anyways without a second thought. It was a debt that he knew he would never truly be able to repay.</p><p>His pace quickened when he spotted the dinky little gate of the orphanage a few blocks away. A handful of children were playing and building what appeared to be a pretty pathetic snowman. It was half black with dirt and had stones for a face. When they spotted him coming up the walkway, they waved. He waved back, smiling a little. It always made him a bit sad to see the kids around because it meant they hadn’t been adopted. At least they were smiling.</p><p>That was the one truly “happy” thing about the orphanage. Charlie was a never-ending source of light and joy. She just gave and gave and gave because she <em>wanted </em>to, and no other reason. Angel couldn’t figure out where it came from. Christ, she should’ve been a saint. Just staring at her was like looking into the sun too long, and it would make his head start to hurt. He always figured that’s why she had chosen Vaggie. Whenever Charlie was too much, he could always rely on her to be a little more logical and even keeled. Then, when that got too boring or she got too much on his nerves with her lectures, he went back to Charlie. And around and around they went. </p><p>It had been an interesting upbringing to say the least. Never a dull moment. </p><p>Wiping his boots against the scuff of the door, Angel breathed in the musty air of the old house. The paneling beneath him creaked and he spotted multiple cobwebs in the grooves of the ceiling. His old home… just like he always remembered.</p><p>“Angel!” </p><p>Angel looked up as Charlie flew around the corner, spattered in flour and batter. She grinned widely at him and ran at him at full speed with open arms. He gasped and dodged to the side before she could catch him.</p><p>“Aye!” He complained. “This is my favorite coat. I don’t need any of that crap on it!” </p><p>“Then you came to wrong place.” Vaggie appeared behind him, and Angel couldn’t duck fast enough as she landed a big pat on his face, sending flour everywhere. Angel spluttered as he rubbed at his face. </p><p>“Vaggie, you bitch!”</p><p>“Language!” Charlie chided. “Don’t make me get the swear jar.”</p><p>Vaggie chuckled in the doorway, wiping off the flour from her hands. Her eyepatch crinkled as she smirked at him, hands on her hips. She had tied her hair back, revealing speckles of flour on her face. “Welcome home.” </p><p>Though he was covered in flour, and some had unfortunately gotten onto his coat, he couldn’t help but smile back just a little. “Thanks.”</p><p>Vaggie was wearing one of her rare grins, but it quickly dropped as she stared at his face, flipping into the frown he was much more familiar with. When she reached out, he couldn’t help but flinch back. Her frown deepened, stare hardening into stone. </p><p>“Angel, what happened to your eye?” Her tone had turned ice cold. Shit. He must’ve rubbed the make-up off with the flour.</p><p>“I tripped at work. It’s no big deal.” He waved her off and quickly turned away, pretending to not see the way Vaggie and Charlie exchange concerned glances. He made a show of dusting off his coat with a dramatic sigh. “Anyways, did I catch ya’ in the middle of something? Ya’ look a little busy.”</p><p>Taking his cue, Charlie coughed and clapped her hands. “Yes! You’re just in time too. We just finished your cake.”</p><p>“My cake?” Angel quirked a brow, following the two into the kitchen. It was like a bomb of flour, sugar, eggs, and other ingredients had gone off. He vaguely wondered if Charlie and Vaggie had just started pitching fistfuls of the stuff at each other before he’d arrived.</p><p>“Of course.” From the middle of the counter, Charlie scooped up a plate with a freshly-frosted two-tier monster of sugar and buttercream and spun around to show him. “Ta da! Happy birthday Angel!”</p><p>Angel stared in stunned silence and only came out of it when he felt Vaggie lay a gentle hand on his back. </p><p>“Can’t believe it’s been so long.” Vaggie’s face scrunched. “Twenty-five? God, you’re getting so old.”</p><p>“Says the ancient hag.” Angel stuck his tongue out at her. They didn’t actually know his real birthday, of course. When they’d found him, Angel hadn’t had a clue about anything. He couldn’t remember his name, where he came from, what had happened to him – nothing.  For some reason, he had been sure he was ten, though. His memory was spotty like that. They had made the day they’d taken him in his birthday, and every year since, they had always celebrated it. </p><p>He stared warily at the confectionery. Ingredients for a cake were extra expenses that the orphanage usually didn’t have the funds to spare on. Every scrap and penny Charlie and Vaggie had went to clothing and fulfilling their children’s basic needs. This was a true luxury. </p><p>“How did you pay for this? I know I deserve the best, but still.” He tried playing it off, but a sliver of guilt gnawed its way through his gut. </p><p>Vaggie rolled her eyes while Charlie tutted him. “Don’t worry about that Angel. We’re just happy to see you. Vags, will you call in the kids from outside? Angel, will you help wrangle the rest of them? I think it’s the perfect time for some sweets!”  </p><p>Angel grumbled about it, but he didn’t really mind. It gave him an easy excuse to go walking through the old house. He spotted some familiar faces, and a few new ones. At the mention of cake, they were all racing past him in seconds. After he was sure they had all trickled downstairs, he slipped into one of the small bathrooms. He glared at his reflection in the dirty glass as the yellow bruise taunted him. In the dim light, his cheek bones seemed hollow and the bags under his eyes really popped. Shit, he did look pretty bad didn’t he? He couldn’t really blame Vaggie for calling him out. </p><p>Pulling out a compact, he wiped away the rest of the flour and carefully re-dabbed his eye. Practically perfect. Or at least… good enough.</p><p>By the time Angel had made it back down, Vaggie was practically beating the children back as Charlie tried to hold the cake high above their desperately clawing hands. </p><p>“Oh Angel, thank God.” Charlie laughed. “Come here before I drop this.”</p><p>In the end, Angel barely received a sliver to make sure that everyone got something. He almost debated not eating it all together. Val had been commenting on his figure again, but when he saw the strawberries Charlie had baked into the cake, he couldn’t resist. She knew strawberries were his favorite. <em>Fuck you Val, </em>he thought as he nearly stuffed the entire thing into his mouth at once. He inwardly gloated when it was <em>delicious.</em> </p><p>After sharing their sweet treat, the children dispersed like vultures, and it became somewhat peaceful once more. Charlie wiped her hands free of frosting and smiled.</p><p>“I think that was a great success. Angel, Vaggie, why don’t you make yourselves some tea? I have to go grab something.” Charlie said, pulling a kettle she had just finished boiling off the stove. “Then you two can just go relax in the common room. I’ll be back.” </p><p>Slightly confused, Angel fetched a small tray and series of cups, allowing Vaggie to prepare the tea. He watched her pour 3 spoons of sugar into his cup and smirked at her frown of distaste. As disgusting as she thought it was, she always knew how to make his favorite kind of tea.</p><p>He followed after Vaggie and dropped into one of the dusty old chairs. He blew gently on the cup before taking a timid sip. Perfect. </p><p>Vaggie sat across from him and quietly took a sip from her own cup. He sighed inwardly. Despite her patched eye, nothing really escaped her. It was always routine during his visits that at some point she would inspect every nook and cranny of him she could see. They sat in silence for a few moments, the quiet pierced only by the sound of laughter outside and thumping floorboards overhead.</p><p>“You look like you’ve lost more weight.” Vaggie finally said, arms crossed. “And you look tired. Really tired. That shiner doesn’t help.”</p><p>“Maybe you should take a look in a mirror yer’self.” He pitched his retort sharply. </p><p>Vaggie scowled. “I run around trying to keep track of kids all day. At least I have a good reason.” </p><p>Angel could really use a smoke right about now, but Vaggie would skin him alive if he tried pulling one out. The thought nearly made him laugh. The first time he’d tried lighting one he’d snatched from out back, she had descended upon him like a bat from Hell. He could <em>still</em> hear her screams. Jeez, he was really feeling nostalgic today. </p><p>“I’m fine.” </p><p>“She worries about you a lot.” Vaggie said. “<em>I </em>worry. I know you don’t like to tell us about your work, but maybe if you did we could help somehow-“</p><p>“I said I’m fine.” Angel said again, a little too forcefully. “I can take care of myself now. You’re not actually my mother.” He felt bad right after saying it, but she’d heard worse from him. Her mouth pursed into a tight line and she looked away. </p><p>“You’re right. Sorry.” She said. “It’s not my business.”</p><p>Angel stared hard into his lap. Fuck. He had crossed a line. He and Vaggie had always had a back and forth relationship, but she was one of the only two people who really gave a shit about him. He would never, <em>ever</em> admit it out loud, but if he had to imagine what having a mother would’ve been like… Charlie and Vaggie were always front and center in his mind. </p><p>“Vaggie-” Angel had just opened his mouth when a loud clattering down the stairs <strike></strike>caught their attention. Charlie came around the corner, hopping cheerfully with a small box in her hands. </p><p>“Happy birthday Angel, hon!” She cooed happily, dropping it into his lap and giving him a quick kiss on the head before scooting next to Vaggie. He couldn’t help the small blush burn his face. He hadn’t let her kiss him in years. </p><p>“A gift?” Angel stared at them with wide eyes as he put down his tea. “No. This is too much. I can’t accept-“</p><p>Vaggie rolled her eyes emphatically. “Just open it, moron. It’s not what you think.” </p><p>Not what he thought? He looked over the box. It was small and made of cardboard, barely filling the palm of his hand. It had gone soft over the years and felt flimsy in his hand as if it would fall apart if he held it too hard. When he shook it, he could hear a light rattling as some kind of object slid around. </p><p>“Careful.” Charlie said. “You don’t want to break it.”</p><p>He pulled off the lid. </p><p>And froze. </p><p>Nestled inside was a golden necklace. He blinked and gaped as he drew out the delicate chain, staring at the golden heart at the end of it.</p><p>“Is this real gold?” Angel breathed. Charlie and Vaggie exchanged a glance, invisible thoughts firing between them. </p><p>“We think so.” Vaggie said. </p><p>“But,” Angel stammered. “Why give something like this to me? I-“</p><p>“Because it’s <em>yours, </em>hon.” </p><p>Angel blinked. “What?”</p><p>“We… We actually have to apologize Angel.” Charlie said. “I’m so sorry. We meant to give this to you much, much sooner, but we thought we’d misplaced it years ago. You were wearing it the day we found you. It’s actually the reason we named you Angel. See? The engraving there. It’s Italian, but it says-”</p><p>“To my angel, with love…” He whispered. The words came off his tongue as if it’d been waiting to speak them for a long time. Angel’s fingers passed over the surface of the heart. “You found this on me?” A cocktail of emotions was quickly welling up inside him. Shock. Confusion. Even a little anger. “Why did you take it? It wasn’t yours to take!” </p><p>Charlie flinched, but Vaggie squeezed her hand comfortingly. She met his glare full force, firm and resolute, as if she’d been prepared for this lash back. </p><p>“Because we were afraid for you.”</p><p>“Afraid?” Angel echoed. So many questions were bubbling to the surface. What exactly did this mean? The way the two women were staring at him had him slightly on edge. Anxiety began to turn his stomach. “Why afraid?”</p><p>Charlie sighed and sent one more worrying glance Vaggie’s way who nodded in encouragement before turning back to him. </p><p>“There’s something we never told you. About the way we found you fifteen years ago.”</p><p>Angel swallowed hard. He could hear his blood rushing in his ears and didn’t notice the anxious tapping his heel had taken to the floor. “Ok? What is it?”</p><p>“The area we found you around,” Charlie bit her lip nervously. Her voice dropped to nearly a whisper as if she were afraid someone would overhear. “There used to be a… very powerful, very <em>dangerous</em> family that lived around that district. They were called the Romani family.”</p><p>“Yeah, I’ve heard of ‘em.” Angel said. “That mob family that was wiped out, right? Val-I mean, my boss told me about ‘em<strike>-</strike>.” </p><p>“The thing is Angel,” Charlie continued. “When the mansion and surrounding buildings burned down, it was rumored that the entire main family was killed that night. It was by chance that we found you there, wandering several blocks away from it all.</p><p>“Your clothes were torn and you were covered in ash and bleeding.” She tapped the left side of her face. “You had a pretty nasty bump too. And it wasn’t for a couple of days after that until you really came to and you didn’t know anything. Not your name, where you came from, or about anything that might’ve happened to you. The only clue we had was that necklace. So we brought you here instead because we were worried that whoever had slaughtered that family would come back and hurt you if they knew where you had ended up.”</p><p>Angel had the audacity to snort. “So what is any of that supposed to mean? Why would someone come back to hurt me?”</p><p>“We don’t really know.” Vaggie said. “Like Charlie said, it was just a weird feeling we both had. We don’t know how you could’ve been involved with them Angel, but we didn’t want to take chances. You were a young, vulnerable child all by yourself. We were trying to protect you.”</p><p>They were speaking so earnestly that as fast as Angel's anger had come, it drained . Though it still bothered him that he couldn’t remember anything. All he’d known about the day they had found him was from what they’d told him through the years. All he really could remember was that one day he’d just woken up at the orphanage, with a failing left eye and no memory, and that was that.</p><p>He’d always been careful about asking <em>those</em> kinds of questions. The ones dealing with where he’d come from. He’d just chalked it up to the typical abandonment spiel. He’d abandoned the chance of ever learning about his past a long time ago. After all, what good would it do to learn of some shit parents that ended up not wanting him and leaving him high and dry? It had always left him feeling depressed in ways he couldn’t describe, so he’d just stopped thinking about it, forcing the thoughts deep, deep down. He still had dreams about it sometimes. Nightmares more often. Those would be filled with phantom faces. Full of screams. Of fire.</p><p>Could those not have been dreams after all? </p><p>Tentatively, Charlie reached out for his hands. He almost flinched away but allowed her to take them into her warm grip. </p><p>“We care about you with all of our hearts, Angel.” Charlie said,  her eyes watery. Even Vaggie sharply looked away to hide her misty gaze. “We never meant to keep this from you. We just wanted to keep you safe.” </p><p>“And you did.” Angel finally said, returning her grip. “You really did. I probably would’ve ended who the fuck knows where if you hadn’t found me. But I don’t know about all the Romani stuff. That’s a pretty wild story.” He tried to force a laugh, but it sounded hollow. His head was spinning. </p><p>All this time, he’d thought he was nobody from nowhere. But this… didn’t it prove that he was <em>somebody?</em> From somewhere? That he was… His throat closed up. Loved once? Because if he came from somewhere, he, at one point or another, must’ve had a family. A real one… right?</p><p>This necklace… it could’ve been a gift too. Someone who once had loved him enough to give him a gift like this. It was a clue into a past he’d never dared to hope for. </p><p>Charlie drew away, and Vaggie handed her a kerchief, which she noisily blew into.</p><p>“Whoever gave this to me,” Angel started carefully. “D’ya think they could still be out there?”</p><p>“We don’t know Angel.” Vaggie said honestly.</p><p>“Anything’s possible!” Charlie offered, but even though she was the Queen of Optimists, Angel couldn’t help but feel like her answer wasn’t the pinnacle of hope. “We just want you to be happy in whatever way that means to you. I’m glad we were able to find it after all this time and give it back to you.”</p><p>“Yeah…” Angel trailed off, rubbing the necklace between his fingers. He felt Vaggie’s piercing gaze drilling into him from across the room. </p><p>“Angel, what are you thinking?” Vaggie asked suspiciously. “I know that look in your eye.”</p><p>“Nothing Vaggie! Jeez, just lay off will ya’?” Angel snapped even as he drew the chain around his neck, tucking it into the folds of his shirt. That was a big lie. His mind was chugging along at breakneck speeds, almost bursting with all the scattered thoughts flying around. God, he really needed that smoke. </p><p>He was halfway through pulling one out when Vaggie leapt to her feet.</p><p>“No sir! You do <em>not</em> smoke in the house!” </p><p>“For fuck’s sake.” Angel stuck it in his mouth, unlit. “Yeah, yeah I know. Fucking old hag, going senile in her old age.”</p><p>“That’s <em>Mrs. Old Hag </em>to you, ya’ little shit.” </p><p>“Vaggie! Angel!” Charlie gasped. “I’m getting the swear jar!” Whatever tension remained started to leak away. Angel chuckled a little. </p><p>“Unfortunately, I’ve only got enough to get home so I’m gonna have to pass on that.” Angel said. “I’ll be sure to pay up next year.”</p><p>“You say that every year.” </p><p>“Gives you something to look forward to.” Angel winked. Vaggie snorted and Charlie smiled. “Speaking of, I should probably get going. I’ve got a late shift tonight so need to be back in time before it gets dark.” </p><p>They walked him to the front door, and he indulged them by letting them fuss over him just a bit more as he donned his coat and cap. Charlie readjusted his scarf for the umpteenth time before finally taking a breath and stepping back. </p><p>“Ladies,” Angel tipped his cap with a smile. “It’s been a lovely afternoon. Thanks for everything.”  </p><p>“Take care of yourself, ok hun?” Vaggie said with a heavy sigh, arms crossed. “That’s all we ask. And don’t get yourself in too much trouble.”</p><p>“Wouldn’t be me if I didn’t!” Angel snickered and got her to crack a smile.</p><p>“Of course not.”  </p><p>“Remember to stay in touch!” Charlie called after him as he made his way across the small gate. “We love you Angel! Take care!” </p><p>Angel turned one last time to wave goodbye as the two women stood staring after him on the doorstep. Charlie was leaning her head against Vaggie, who’d wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders. They waved back, albeit a little sadly. A sort of pang hit him in the chest then, as if his heart were being squeezed. Part of him wanted to walk back, give them one last squeeze and never let go. Another part, the hollow and dark one he liked to ignore, wanted to bolt and run far away, not looking back. So of course he didn’t go back. </p><p>And then he was alone once more.</p><p>Trudging along the snowy path, he pulled out a tiny matchbox and sucked on his cigarette with a breath of relief. The cord of anxiety that had wound tightly around his lungs eased slightly. He cursed himself when his exhale sounded shaky.  </p><p>He pulled out the gold chain. So, now what? He didn’t mention it to them before, but he couldn’t just go back to Valentino wearing this. Even if it wasn’t now, he would find it eventually. He’d bet an entire day's wages that he’d get beat for trying to hide it. As Val was so friendly to often remind, he owned him. That extended to everything <em>he</em> owned too, apparently. He could hear Val already, telling him how selfish it would be to keep things like this to himself. How he was already being so generous in letting him go out on his own at all. He could already feel his slimy hand crawling up and down his body as he’d say it.</p><p>Angel grit his teeth at the thought. No, he couldn’t go back with it.</p><p>So the dilemma was what to do with it.  Maybe he could sell it and make a couple of bucks off of it? If this was real gold, he could probably fetch a decent penny, and if it was enough, Val may even let him keep some of the haul. But the thought of parting with the trinket filled him with dread. He may not have remembered it, but this had <em>belonged</em> to him. It was a piece of him, proof of some connection to an old self. </p><p><em>With Love</em>, the heart’s engraving said. Someone who loved him, had given this to him a long time ago. And to think that there was even the slightest possibility that they could still be out there<em>…</em></p><p>The cigarette burned and dropped a stub of ash as it sat in his mouth, unsmoked. Before he realized, he’d slowed down until he finally came to a stop. Some passersby may have yelled at him, but he didn’t notice at all.</p><p>He imagined himself standing at a crossroads. Down one path, clear and straight ahead, lay Valentino and the lustful promises of the night. A roof over his head. All the beautiful clothes he could ever want. Enough drugs and booze to keep him high and happy for the rest of his life… Angel, the infamous courtesan… Angel, Val’s most precious doll… Angel, the orphan and slave. Forever.</p><p>But there was another path now. It wasn’t clear or paved, and he couldn’t see far ahead, but what could be waiting at the end was… Angel shook his head, spitting out the cigarette and grinding it into the pavement with an agitated twist of his boot. </p><p>“What the hell am I thinking?” He cursed under his breath. Without Val, he had nothing. No one. And it would be risky. Very, <em>very </em>risky. If he just vanished, there was no guarantee that Valentino would just leave him alone. He had invested <em>a lot</em> in Angel, and his connections were nothing to sneeze at. There was no way. He couldn’t just <em>leave</em>… Could he?</p><p>“Fuck.” Angel hissed. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” He couldn’t do it. He wasn’t going to do it. He <em>wasn’t</em>. </p><p>He spun on his heel, taking off in the opposite direction. </p><p>Okay, no need to go throwing everything away just yet. He’d be late tonight, but the worst he would get was probably a beating that he could easily hide and maybe a couple of days without food. He was supposed to have an important “meeting” with a client tomorrow, after all. Supposedly some important son of a bitch. Val couldn’t seriously debilitate him in some way because that was bad for business. He could live with that. </p><p>He didn’t know when he’d have time to come back to this part of the city, so the best time to act was now. The only working clue he had was to go back to where Vaggie and Charlie had found him, to where those buildings had burned down and been abandoned. </p><p>He spun around again. </p><p>No! It was crazy! What was he hoping to find? Some ashes and dust? It had been fifteen years. There wouldn’t be any trace left by now. And what if he <em>did </em>find something? It’s not like he had any money to go anywhere else. </p><p>With a groan of frustration, he began to shake his fists at the sky. He no doubt looked like a raving lunatic to people passing by. </p><p>“GIVE ME A FUCKING SIGN! A HINT! ANYTHING!” He yelled. The gray clouds only drifted by, the silent snow dappling his face with several icy stings. Sighing, he staggered to sit on a set of cold, soggy steps. </p><p>There was a clattering ruckus that made Angel glance up curiously. A series of shouts and some loud banging coming from a nearby alley had him slowly getting up and eyeing it warily, along with other onlookers. The next series of noises were the most confusing. Was that…squealing?</p><p>A small pink bullet shot out from the alley. Angel startled out of his curious stupor and, with growing confusion, realized he was looking at a tiny piglet.  It squealed and shrieked loudly, small hoofs clacking hard against the pavement as the small creature outran its pursuers: two men in rubber boots and bloodied aprons waving around meat cleavers. It turned sharply, nimbly ducking away from their scrambling attempts to catch it. Unable to stop their momentum, the men slipped backwards on the slick pavement, sending their knives flying and landing harmlessly in the snow.</p><p>“Come back here you filthy runt!” One of them called, but the piglet was already sprinting away at full speed. It was a second too late that Angel realized it was going to run straight into him. With an undignified yelp, Angel maneuvered himself just enough so he wouldn’t break a limb as he fell onto his ass and suddenly found himself with an armful of panicked piglet. He gripped it by instinct as he cursed in pain. Nothing felt sprained or broken, so that was lucky. He could live with a sore bottom. It was practically a way of life, after all, but usually it felt better than this.</p><p>“<em>Fuck </em>that smarts.” He hissed, easing his way to his feet. “I don’t have time for this.”</p><p>“Oi fucker! Give back the merchandise!” One of the men called. </p><p>Angel looked from the wriggling piglet in his hands to the men failing miserably to gain purchase on the ground, then back at the pig. Big watery eyes stared back at him, and it was as if it had reached straight inside his chest and plucked one of Angel’s biggest heart strings. He was a sucker for all things this adorable.</p><p>“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” Angel muttered, looking over the piglet once more. “<em>This </em>is my sign? Guess beggars can’t be choosers, huh?”</p><p>Then he was running down the street, piglet tucked tightly in his arms, with the men shouting at his back. The pig had stopped wriggling at this point. It was possibly too stunned at being caught, or maybe it sensed the fact that it was being carried away from danger. It snuffled and oinked , and Angel grinned, giving him a brief tickle on the snout. </p><p>“I think I can take a hint. Guess there’s no turning back.” And he didn’t want to. The moment this road had opened for him, he’d known he had to see it through to the end. It was time to go back to the past for a chance at a future. </p><p>And in the deepest, most secret corner of his heart, a whispered prayer kept repeating. He wanted this road to be his. Let it lead him to his past. To his home.</p><p><em>At last.</em> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I like sneaking in some of the dialogue and lyrics from the movie haha. But can you imagine being raised by Charlie and Vaggie? It would sure be something. This chapter was Angel-centric, but I promise that they all meet next chapter! </p><p>Micro pigs weren’t bred until the 1980s but I’m not letting Angel not have Fat Nuggets so he’s just a tiny runt instead 🤷 Despite better meat packing distribution, there were still a few slaughterhouses in the city. I don’t have much knowledge concerning them, so I’m sorry for being clueless, but I guess FN is from one of those. Lol at my attempt of stretching logic  ^^;</p><p>Also, I'm starting to get the hang of Twitter I think!<br/>If you'd like, you can follow me here: @sweetnpinnk</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Once Upon A December</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I have no good excuses for taking so long to update ^^; I wrote this months ago, it just took a while to edit. But thank you for the patience! Really hoping I'll have the next chapter sooner than later :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Husk groaned from underneath the newspaper on his face as another man prattled on and on before them. He’d been half asleep and nearly stumbled out of his seat when Alastor suddenly turned up the radio beside him, filling the room with screeching static. The man on stage paused mid-monologue, his very heavy, very <em>bad</em> Italian accent finally shutting up.</p><p>“Excuse me? What are you doing?” The actor sputtered. “I was in the middle of-”</p><p>“Listening to something that my ears can actually <em>tolerate</em>.” Alastor was still smiling as he gestured to the exit. “I think that’s enough. You can show yourself out. Exit stage right.”</p><p>The man, whose name Husk couldn’t even remember after working their way through an entire list’s worth of names today, turned bright red to his roots.</p><p>“How dare- I- What you’re doing is definitely illegal you know!” The man fumed and fumbled around to collect his coat and belongings. “I ought’a turn you guys in.”</p><p>“Yes yes, you do that and expose yourself why don’t you. Good day.”</p><p>With one final curse and a very rude gesture later, the man stomped out. As soon as he was gone, Alastor planted his head on the desk. Husk smirked.</p><p>“This wasn’t going to be easy, Al.” Husk said. “There’s gotta be <em>one </em>idiot that we can work with in this God forsaken city.”</p><p>“Oh really? And where are we supposed to find them? Because so far we’ve gone through nearly a hundred nobodies already and not <em>one</em> of them has shown any promise.”</p><p>“This was <em>your</em> idea.” Husk reminded him, scrubbing at his face.</p><p>“And <em>you</em> agreed to it.” Alastor mumbled back.</p><p>God, Husk was exhausted. They’d been at this for a week straight. When Alastor had mentioned that he would find some people, Husk hadn’t actually expected anyone to show up. When people had started to come  he had chided himself a little. When Alastor said he was going to do something, he usually did it. Through which means, Husk didn’t actually want to know. However, that was as far as Alastor’s magic seemed to stretch because those who did show up had been completely useless. There had been a handful with the slightest bit of promise (though honestly even that was a bit of a stretch) but in those cases, there was always something that would throw off the whole thing. The way they looked, the way they walked, their very ‘air’ – it just wasn’t going to make the cut. After Husk had attempted explaining this to Alastor, he’d gotten huffy with him.</p><p>“The whole point of this was to find a body.” Alastor said bitterly. “And you would fill in the rest of the blanks.”</p><p>“Ok sure, but,” Husk said, splaying his hands. “I need something that I can actually work with. I can carve whatever you need me to, but I need some wood to work with. It’s not my fault you keep giving me rocks. Remember, it’s not <em>me </em>you have to convince, got it?”</p><p>So, their fruitless search continued, another day ending without their golden ticket. As they slipped out of the small abandoned theater they’d been secretly using for their auditions, Husk half-joked about  bleaching Alastor’s hair and teaching him instead.</p><p>“That’s not funny.” Alastor’s smile flickered as he eyed him. “Besides, I’m <em>older</em> than you Husker.”</p><p>Husk shrugged. “Doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be funny. Damn, it’s been a long day. I could really use some booze.”</p><p>“Well I’m afraid we don’t have the funds for that. I’m not an infinite resource, but I’ve saved up enough to purchase our way to Chicago. There’s no way I’m handing it over to a swine like you that would have it swindled away in a flash.”</p><p>“I’d even settle for that swill they used to sell at Ol’ Murray’s speakeasy. Sounds as good as God’s elixir right now.”</p><p>“Husker, focus. We need to expedite this process somehow.” Alastor said as they strolled down the street, careful to stick to the shadows. “It’s important that we find our dear Anthony as soon as possible. I’m afraid that we won’t have been the only ones to pick up on the Romani’s little hint in the papers. And who’s to say that they haven’t printed that ad elsewhere? Our window of opportunity is closing and we must strike while the iron’s hot.”</p><p>“He’s out there.” Husk said, though , whether he believed it himself was another story. “Just keep them coming and we’ll make <em>something </em>work.”</p><p>The soft light of the street gradually darkened as they slipped further into the shadows. The abandoned neighborhood was ghostly and dark, blocks of brick lining the dark street like gravestones. The chill of the night became sharper.</p><p>Husk shivered. Fuck, what he would give for a little something to warm him up. He’d been nearly sober for days now which meant his mind wasn’t as fuzzy as usual. Which meant that thoughts usually filtered through more easily. Which meant the dreams were more frequent. And he couldn’t have that.</p><p>When the familiar sight of their nearly caving building came into view, Husk nearly sighed in relief. It had been a long day and he was too ready to roll over and be unconscious, but before that… his stomach grumbled.</p><p>“Please tell me we have something to eat tonight.”</p><p>“What is this we? <em>I </em>have enough to eat tonight. It’s no butcher’s cut, but it’s enough to sustain.” </p><p>“What happened to being partners?”</p><p>“Let this be a lesson if nothing else Husker, my boy.” Alastor wagged his finger at him and grinned smugly. “Never mix business with pleasure.”</p><p>“Pompous dick.” Husk stuffed his numb fingers deeper into his coat, inwardly cursing when he felt them poke through the growing hole at the bottom of the pockets. Everything really had turned to shit hadn’t it? Once more, he blamed it on fucking prohibition. </p><p>Ever since the Romani massacre that caused the collapse of five buildings in the surrounding area, most of the street had been abandoned and those who stayed nearby skirted away from the shadows and never dared approach. Most of the collapsed buildings had never been cleaned up. The Romani mansion had been reduced to a mess of brick, wood, and ash which lay exposed like the bones of a great decaying beast that had been picked clean through the years. Except for the occasional passing squatter, Husk and Al had carved out their own little pocket in one of the neighboring abandoned buildings and had never been bothered or worried about discovery. Most people thought of the area as cursed and unlucky with how many people had been killed that night so made sure to steer clear, which made it an excellent spot for them to tend to business they didn’t want the stray eye landing upon.</p><p>Husk had made a little nest for himself in one of the upstairs rooms with what little was left of his belongings, though it was anything but cozy. He was forced to use candlelight when it got dark, but the building still had running water and at least he had a roof over his head that kept most of weather out. But hopefully one day soon, he could kiss all this shit goodbye and be well on his way to his pocket of paradise. He only had to hope that the building wouldn’t collapse on them in the next few days.</p><p>They crouched through the half-caved doorway, stepping over stray pieces of rotted wood. Shoveling some newspaper he’d caught flying through the street into the metal barrel they’d rolled into the cramped space, he quickly nursed a fire to life and their small corner grew toasty. It was nearly downright domestic.</p><p>While Alastor began to pull out some cuts of meat and cheese, even a goddamn napkin from his bag, Husk stared. When he started eating the meat raw, Husk gagged.</p><p>“You’re disgusting. Isn’t that bad for you?” </p><p>“I haven’t died yet! Now if you please, Husker. I have few enough pleasures in life and I won’t have you interrupting one of the three I get to indulge in a day.”</p><p>Normally he couldn’t get him to shut up and now he was telling <em>him </em>to be quiet. Creepy, smiling fucker.</p><p>Guess that meant another night with a too empty stomach. Maybe he could snag something better tomorrow, he thought, fishing out the apple he’d been saving. It had been bruised and softened at this point, but it would minimize the cramps of hunger. Usually that was the booze’s job, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. And despite Alastor’s constant joking that his veins were more alcohol than blood at this point, even he couldn’t function on nothing for days on end.</p><p>The apple had just scraped his teeth when he heard a sharp <em>gasp</em> and clattering followed by a high-pitched squeal and some aggressive shushing. Husk and Alastor shared a sharp glance before they were on their feet . In one quick motion, Husk fished one of the scattered bottles and smashed it against a corner. He aimed the jagged end into the dark, eyes smoldering, waiting.</p><p> </p><p>Angel had already been hanging around when the two men had come walking down the street. It had taken a while for Angel to find the place and, honestly, the whole area creeped him out. He felt like he was walking around a graveyard.</p><p>“Guess we’re in this together now, huh Nuggs?” Angel said, bending to scratch behind the piglet’s ears and practically melted when he’d oinked in return as if he could actually understand him.</p><p>He had set Fat Nuggets, as he’d started calling the tiny piglet, down and had wandered through the remains, trying to imagine what the buildings had once looked like fifteen years ago. He wasn’t even sure what he was looking for.</p><p>He quickly began to realize that whatever could’ve been left behind or survived the fire was probably pilfered long ago. Picking through the rubble would take hours, probably days or longer if he really wanted to be thorough. He’d also have to find a dry enough spot to hunker down in for the next couple of days, not to mention finding some food. The only meal he’d had all day was the slice of cake Charlie and Vaggie had made him. His stomach had just started to grumble when he’d heard the two men chatting from up the street. </p><p>Running over in several long strides, Angel scooped Fat Nuggets up and pushed his back against the brick of a cold, damp wall just as they rounded the corner. There was almost no light except for the occasional sliver of moon peeking through the clouds. He tucked Fat Nuggets into his coat, pulling it tight around them both, and suppressed a shiver, but kept a curious eye out as the pair strolled in his general direction. The ball of anxiety in his chest eased a little when they stopped at one of the buildings and slipped inside.  </p><p>He’d crept out of the alley and became more curious when the flickering light of a fire became evident. He shivered again as if his body was trying to imagine the feeling of being warm. He considered leaving, but where exactly was he going to go? He wouldn’t be able to make it back to Valentino tonight. He could try going back to the orphanage, but he didn’t really want Vaggie or Charlie nosing into what he was doing, especially since they had asked him to stay away from all of this and to keep out of trouble.</p><p>He crossed the street until he’d reached the open doorway and peered inside. He was able to see the vague, flickering shadows of the men and could hear them talking but couldn’t quite make out any words. Damn, what he would give to be warm by that fire right about now.</p><p>And then Nuggets had poked out of his coat, snout aggressively sniffing the air, and before he knew it, the piglet was aggressively wrestling his way out of his arms.</p><p>“Nuggets! <em>Shhh!</em>” Angel whispered harshly but the pig was having none of it. Thrown off balance, Angel couldn’t stop himself from careening forward and staggering across the threshold. His legs knocked into several wooden beams and old boxes that scraped and groaned loudly across the floor.</p><p>Angel had just managed to catch himself before pitching face-first to the floor when the sound of a glass bottle shattering echoed in the distance and his breathing hitched. His body went rigid . It was a sound he was only too familiar with.</p><p>“Hey fucker!” A deep voice growled.</p><p>FUCK. What happened to this supposedly being a fucking sign? Angel stared daggers at the piglet in his arms who wriggled none-the-wiser. If he’d just stumbled into a situation where he had to face down some drunk fucking psychos, he wasn’t going down without a fight. He wiggled his boot and felt the comforting presence of the small switch knife he never left the studio without press against his ankle.  Heart in his throat, his hand crept ever so slowly into his boot, fingers brushing the knife.</p><p>“I suggest you come out of hiding before my friend and I here drag you out.”</p><p>To come out or run away? It would be two against one. Angel could throw a mean punch or even a lethally aimed kick, but he wouldn’t be able to hold his own against both at once. He was a fast runner, so maybe he had a better chance to get away if he could get up quick enough. Angel shook himself. He had to get it together! He wasn’t getting shanked in some crusty old building tonight. He was Val’s greatest arm piece for a reason− he had to remember what he was good at. His irresistible charm… it was a long shot, but it might work. Or at least distract them long enough for him to get the fuck out of there. </p><p>
  <em>Time to turn up the heat.</em>
</p><p>Smoothing down his coat as much as possible and nervously brushing his fingers through his hair, Angel tucked the knife into the palm of his hand before taking a quiet breath. Then he strutted into the light.</p><p>He hadn’t known what to expect as he stepped out, but the two men still took him off guard. One was not much larger than him, scrawny with chestnut hair and a pair of skewed glasses on the crook of his nose. A piece of meat was half-sticking out of his mouth. But it was the other one that had his pulse drumming fast.</p><p>Sharp eyes glared at him down the length of the shattered bottle he was still brandishing. Dark hair lined with thin streaks of silver framed the man’s head, the hint of his canines peeking through his snarl. It made Angel weak at the knees and all the possible excuses and bullshit lines he’d prepped in his head vanished like smoke. He must’ve been the most handsome man he’d ever laid eyes on.  </p><p>There was a tense moment of silence as the three stared at each other.</p><p>The scrawny man exhaled in exasperation, pulling the meat from his mouth. “Goodness gracious, it’s just a child. I’d close that mouth dear, or you’ll catch flies.”</p><p>Angel hadn’t realized his mouth had dropped open. He quickly closed it and sent a nasty glare his way. “Aye! I’m no fucking kid.”</p><p>The crashing of the broken bottle  being dropped made him jump. The man was still glaring at him, but his eyes had gone wide and <em>his</em> mouth had dropped open. Angel nearly squirmed under the intense gaze, fighting the red rising to his cheeks. God, he must have looked a mess. The rational part of him was desperately trying to keep himself from sidling straight up to the man. </p><p>“Um, Husker?” A hand waved in front of the handsome man’s face and rapped a knuckle against his head. “Husk? Did the booze finally get to your brain? Hello? Testing, testing.”</p><p>Husk batted him away, impatiently grabbing him around the shoulders instead.</p><p>“Alastor, for once in your life shut your goddamn mouth and just <em>look</em>.” Husk said. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”</p><p>“No?” Alastor said, eyebrow arched. With an annoyed twitch, Husk shoved the glasses back up his nose. He sputtered indignantly, but readjusted the glasses and squinted at Angel through them with a critical eye. Seconds later, his eyebrows shot up into his hairline and a large smile spread across his face.</p><p>“Yes.” Alastor said quietly at first, but then he raised his arms in triumph. “Yes!”</p><p>“Who the fuck are you guys?” Angel snapped. Now he was confused. Were they going to attack him or not?</p><p>“We are−“ Alastor had started to step forward only to pause as he fully took Angel in, fixating on the squishy pink face that had popped out of his coat. Fat Nuggets had started snuffling the air again, and Angel realized that he had probably smelled the meat Alastor had been eating. “Is… is that a pig?”</p><p>“Um.” Angel said. “Yes.”</p><p>“Fantastic!” Alastor clapped and licked his lips. “I haven’t had pork in ages.”</p><p>“Back up, fucker.” Angel cradled Fat Nuggets against his chest, shooting him a disgusted look. “Touch him and I’ll break your fingers.”</p><p> Husk snorted and turned away to hide his smile despite Alastor’s glare.</p><p>“So,” Husk cleared his throat. “Who are you? And what are you doing here?”</p><p>“I asked first.” Angel retorted, still holding Nuggets away from Alastor who hadn’t stopped staring at him with his creepy smile.</p><p>“That you did. Where are our manners?” Alastor spread his hands. “You may call me Alastor, and this is my good friend Husk.”</p><p>“Angel.” Angel said in reply. “And this is Fat Nuggets.”</p><p>“You have a pet pig named Fat Nuggets?” Husk asked, shooting him an odd look. “Um, never mind. So, <em>Angel</em>, was it? Is that a nickname, or…?”</p><p>“No, not really. I’ve always been called that.” Angel said and his grin curled into something a little more suggestive. “Maybe ya’ heard of me? I’m well known in some circles.”</p><p>“Can’t say I have.” Husk looked at him strangely. “So, uh, what exactly brought you here?”</p><p>“Um…” Angel shuffled in place. His necklace burned around his neck and he hoped that it was tucked deep enough into his shirt to be out of sight. He didn’t need any trouble, considering they didn’t seem like they were going to cause him any. He was just being paranoid. “I was looking for somewhere to crash for the night and noticed your fire. Was thinking I could join ya’?”</p><p>Husk and Alastor shot each other a quick look. Angel was mostly improvising, but he found himself kind of hoping that they’d say yes. He wouldn’t mind getting warm by this Husk guy tonight.</p><p>Husk’s expression was thoughtful when he looked back at him. “You’ve got nowhere to stay? Where you coming from?”</p><p>“Uh, you know. Around?” Angel said carefully. It sounded like Husk was getting at something. He was usually pretty good at feeling out a situation, but the question was still odd.</p><p>“So what do you do, my good fellow?” Alastor grinned at him.</p><p>“What is this, an interview?” Angel said. “Look I didn’t mean to crash you guys’ party or whatever. I can just go if three’s a crowd.”</p><p>“Oh no, not at all.” Alastor said, almost too quickly. “We’d love the company. Husk, move over.”</p><p>Husk rolled his eyes, but gestured for Angel to sit by the fire. Angel thought about it for one more second before ultimately shrugging and shuffling over to sit down, setting Fat Nuggets down to sniff around and slyly dropping the knife back into his boot. He was only too aware of the way Husk’s eyes skimmed over him; in fact, it pleased him to no end and he preened a little, making sure to stretch out as he rubbed his numb fingers over by the flames. Except, it wasn’t exactly the same look his clients would give him. Though keen, it was… detached. Nearly clinical.</p><p>“Ah, I see.” Alastor said suddenly, drawing back a little.</p><p>“See what?” Angel asked.</p><p>“Our new friend here appears to be a creature of the night.”</p><p>Angel blinked. “Excuse me?”</p><p>“A whore, are you not?” Alastor said it so matter-of-factly he could’ve been talking about the weather. He adjusted his glasses “Only rent boys wear that kind-of cheap powder. You can still see the bruise, it does look quite unseemly.” Angel’s hand flew up to his covered bruise and stared at Alastor with wide eyes.</p><p>“Alastor.” Husk scowled, voice low in warning.</p><p>“Is your friend usually this… uh, charming?” Angel said dryly. It wasn’t as if this was the first time he’d been called a whore. Val usually called him worse, but it didn’t exactly feel good coming from the smiling freak who had just started to cackle as if he’d made a hilarious joke.</p><p>“That’s one way to put it.” Husk said with a scowl. Angel kicked one leg over the other and crossed his arms, glaring at Alastor who seemed perfectly unperturbed.</p><p>“So what if I am? I’m not ashamed of that. It keeps a roof over my head, and it can even be a fun time. Does that bother ya’?” Angel snapped. Then a little more boldly, he glanced at Husk out of the corner of his eye and offered him one of his flirtier smiles. “Or… maybe ya’ even interested?”</p><p>Husk snorted. Angel gaped, highly offended. People paid big bucks for him! And this guy had the nerve to <em>laugh? </em></p><p>“No thanks, kid.”</p><p>“I’m not a kid!” Angel snapped.</p><p>“Okay, how old are you?”</p><p>“I’m… I’m at least old enough to know I’m not a fucking kid alright?!” Angel said, flustered.</p><p>“You don’t know how old you are?” Husk asked skeptically.</p><p>“I’m twenty-five!” Angel threw up his hands in exasperation. At least… he <em>thought</em> he was twenty-five, but he wasn’t going to say that. “Fuck, you want my whole life story or what?”</p><p>“No. I don’t really care.” Husk said bluntly and Angel scowled. “But if you’ve already got a roof waiting for you then what’cha doing out here?”</p><p>Oops. Angel stared into the flames, scratching Nuggets absently behind the ears.</p><p>“I’m…” He was what? He hadn’t really thought this far ahead to be honest. “Well, I guess, I… ran away?”</p><p>Husk arched a thick brow. “You… ran away?”</p><p>“Yeah. Today actually .” Angel said slowly as the truth of it sank in. Thinking it was one thing, but now that he was saying it out loud, a nervous, almost giddy energy began to fill him. “It was kind of on a whim.”</p><p>“And so now you have nowhere to go? Do you even have any money? Any plan?”</p><p>Angel’s cheeks burned. “Hey! Don’t fucking talk down to me like I don’t know anything. This isn’t my first time round the block ya’ know.”</p><p>“So that’s a no.” Husk said and Angel’s sputtered reply was all the confirmation he needed. “So what I’m hearing is that you’ve got no one, don’t have anywhere to go, and are in need of some money?”</p><p>Angel eyed him for a few moments, frowning. “I guess that’s <em>one</em> way of saying it.”</p><p>“Well that’s,” Husk breathed, “fucking perfect.”</p><p>“It’s absolutely fantastic news is what it is!” Alastor said in delight. “It’s your lucky day, my boy!”</p><p>“Don’t tell me you’re like one of them church goers or something.” Angel grimaced. The full-belly laugh from Alastor was enough to say otherwise.</p><p>“No no no! Have we got an offer for you.”</p><p>“An offer?” Angel echoed. “Like a… job? I ain’t exactly got a wide set of skills. Well, except in one area which I can say I’m <em>very </em>good at.” Angel winked at Husk who only rolled his eyes and tossed a rolled up newspaper his way. Caught off guard, he nearly fumbled it and dropped it by the fire.</p><p>“A heads up would’ve been nice.” He muttered. Again Husk ignored him, choosing to lounge against the wall, and gestured to the paper.</p><p>“If you’re not afraid to come around these parts at night and you’re already involved in some shifty stuff,” Husk said. “What that tells me is that you’ve got some balls on you. How afraid are you of getting your hands a little dirty?”</p><p>“Hon, I live on my knees. A little dirt is part of the deal.” Angel crooned, secretly pleased with the noise of disgust from Alastor. It even finally got Husk to react if the way his eyes widened were any indication, but he was quick to put his poker face back on. Angel grinned mischievously. “I’m not scared of what goes bump in the night. What are ya’ getting at?”</p><p>“I’ll get right to the point then,” Husk said. “Ever heard of the Romani family?”</p><p>Angel nearly sucked in a sharp breath, fingers digging into the paper, but forced himself to keep a neutral face despite Fat Nuggets small oink of protest as his arms tightened around him.</p><p>“I’ve heard of ‘em.” Angel said slowly, maintaining a practiced air of nonchalance. At least he couldn’t say that Valentino didn’t teach him nothing. He even dared to test the water a bit. “That old mafia family right? Didn’t they all get killed or something a long time ago?”</p><p>If Husk noticed his unease, he didn’t comment. Instead he pointed to the paper again. “Good, so you have heard of them. That’ll spare some explanation. Take a look at page 5, at the bottom corner.”</p><p>Confused, Angel flipped to the page. Alastor leaned over to point out the small paragraph impatiently.</p><p>“You can read, yes?” Alastor asked.</p><p>“Yes I can fucking read. Asshole.” Angel ground his teeth, wrenching the paper back to hold up to the flickering light.</p><p>
  <em>Missing: Anthony Romani. </em>
</p><p>Romani. Just the sight of the name alone made Angel nervous enough to have to reread the first few words several times. All the more focused, he read on slower.</p><p>
  <em>Last seen in New York. For possible inquiries, contact Molly Romani in Chicago. Reward for safe return…</em>
</p><p>Angel gasped out loud, jumping straight to his feet. “Ten <em>thousand </em>dollars?!”</p><p>“Incredible isn’t it?” Alastor spread his hands. “An opportunity unlike any other.”</p><p>“But wasn’t the whole family killed?” Angel lowered the paper. “Who’s this Anthony kid?”</p><p>“That my friend,” Alastor said. “Would be the missing third child. You see it was only <em>believed</em> the entire family was killed, but the bodies of the three children were never found.”</p><p>“Giovanni, Molly, and Anthony Romani.” Husk  explained. “The massacre happened on his and his sister’s 10<sup>th</sup> birthday which would make him 25 now. And you do kind of resemble him.”</p><p>“Sorry, what?” Angel stared at Husk, heart skipping a beat. Had he just heard right? Could he possibly be suggesting what he <em>thought </em>he was suggesting?</p><p>“If I didn’t know any better, you’re the same age, the same physical type… We’ve seen plenty of men in the past couple of days, and not <em>one</em> of them looks as much as Anthony as you do.”</p><p>Angel’s pulse was a thunder in his veins. He made himself scoff loudly. He only hoped they didn’t catch the tremble in his voice. “What the fuck are you saying? You think that <em>I </em>could be Anthony?”</p><p>“No, of course not.” It was Husk’s turn to scoff. “That kid is long dead.”</p><p>Oh. That was enough of a cold bucket of water to douse on Angel’s runaway train of thought. So much for that stupid fucking theory. It had been a reach anyways. But the Romani family was still his best clue. “What makes you say that? And how do you know all this anyways?”</p><p>“I−“ It was the first time that night that Angel had seen Husk hesitate. “I make it my business to know these things. Trust me, he did not survive the night.”</p><p>Oh shit, had Husk been there? Now Angel needed to know more. Was it possible that Husk had even seen <em>him?</em> It was possible. Husk sounded so sure about it too, but also that he was holding back more than he was telling. Best not to play all of his cards now, even if Angel wanted nothing more than to sit him down and interrogate him for all his worth.</p><p>“Okay, so then what’s the angle here?” Angel asked. “What are you getting at?”</p><p>“A proposal!” Alastor said excitedly. “You see Husker and I are on a quest to find our dear Anthony and reunite him back with his family.”</p><p>“But you just said he died.”</p><p>“Yes, but the surviving family doesn’t realize that.” Alastor said. “Our intention is to find a convincing double and with Husk’s special inside knowledge, teach said lad to <em>become </em>Anthony. And then it will be my job to get us to Chicago and connected with the right people to lead us to the remaining family. Once we can convince them of your validity, the reward is as good as ours! Of course, we will have to discuss our cuts, but-”</p><p>“Wait, wait, wait. <em>My </em>validity?” Angel’s head was spinning.</p><p>“Of course, my boy!” Alastor laughed out loud. “<em>You </em>will be our Anthony!”</p><p>“You can’t be serious.” Angel’s head swiveled between the two men, but between Alastor’s manic grin and Husk’s grimace he couldn’t sense an ounce of sarcasm. “Okay, I knew you were crazy from the beginning, but now I think you’re <em>both </em>insane.”</p><p>“Why?” Husk said. “I know everything about that family. Too much really. And you really are the best we’re going to get. It’s ten <em>fucking </em>thousand dollars. That’s a gamble I’d be willing to bet on any day. What do you have to lose here?”</p><p>“What is there to lose?” Angel had to laugh. “How about our lives? You don’t think that there could be <em>some</em> consequence from tricking the mafia, even ex-mafia? Something tells me that they wouldn’t be okay with that.”</p><p>“Don’t be so dramatic, we’d be long gone before they realized anything was amiss.” Alastor insisted. </p><p>“And if not this, what else you gonna do?” Husk pointed out. “Doesn’t sound like you have much else lined up for you.”</p><p>“Okay, let’s say I’m actually considering this. I want to talk cut.” Angel said, crossing his arms. “ I want half.”</p><p>“HALF?” Husk nearly choked. “You’re fucking joking!”</p><p>“Ya’ think I’m some idiot? Like I said, it’s not my first time round the block.” Angel scowled. “If anything goes south, it’ll be <em>my</em> neck first in the line of fire. ‘Sides, I don’t even know you guys. I don’t trust you.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t agree to above ten.”</p><p>“Ten fucking percent?” Angel sputtered. “Fuck that!”</p><p>As Husk and Angel glowered at each other, Alastor chuckled. Angel wasn’t sure he’d stopped smiling even once since he’d showed up.</p><p>“Got something to say, Smiles?” Angel challenged.</p><p>“Twenty.” Alastor said in a clipped tone. Before Angel or Husk could protest, he held up a hand. “You may be the best we’ve seen, but we can always settle for less. To be frank my dear fellow, you are perfectly dispensable. We are not. We are the key to making this scheme work, else our entire plan would fall apart. You need me for my connections, and you need Husker for the rest of it. Not to mention the investment that we’ll have to be putting into you, Mr. No-Money-With-Nowhere-To-Go. This is an endeavor that will take time, effort, and additional resources to make it convincing. Sound fair?”</p><p>Angel pursed his lips. It really was a crazy plan, but a part of him… a part of him was excited, he couldn’t lie. “…A third.”</p><p>“A quarter.”</p><p>“Deal!” As soon as the word left his mouth, Angel’s thoughts were already far away. Two thousand five hundred dollars… that was still an unbelievable amount of money. Along with the resources they might have access to, who was to say what Angel could discover about his family and about that night fifteen years ago as well. It was more than he could’ve hoped. And it would be <em>far</em> away from Valentino. </p><p>Husk grumbled to himself under his breath, but he didn’t try to further contest. Sensing they had all reached an agreement, Alastor smiled.</p><p>“Excellent, then we have an agreement. We shall be splitting the reward twenty-five for Angel and half the remaining seventy-five between Husker and myself. So, <em>Angel.</em>” The way Alastor said his name made Angel’s skin crawl. Nerves fluttered in the pit of his stomach. The fire flickered off of Alastor’s eyes, and there was almost something… predatory about them. “Do we have a deal?” Alastor pinched at the tip of his gloved fingers and pulled off the fabric, presenting him his hand.</p><p>Angel often had to rely on his instincts while working the street, as it could mean the difference between a good night or an unbelievably bad one in some cases and right now every bone in his body was telling him to <em>not</em> shake this man’s hand, but he had already decided to see this through to the end, hadn’t he?</p><p>Just as he began to reach out to shake, his wrist was abruptly grabbed.</p><p>Husk had appeared beside him and despite the firmness of his grip, the hold was gentle and had only surprised Angel more than scared him. He also couldn’t help but notice how easily his large hand wrapped around his wrist, how warm it was against his skin.</p><p>“Um, Husker?” Alastor’s smile twitched, the first sign of threat to the smile that had yet to leave his face that night. “I’m in the middle of something. Get out of the way.”</p><p>“You don’t have to make one of your <em>deals</em>  with him. He’s just a kid.” Husk said, releasing Angel’s wrist. “I’ll take responsibility for him instead.”</p><p>“Aye!” Angel finally found his voice again, trying not to focus on the lingering warmth. “How many times do I have to say I’m not a kid? What do you think you’re-“</p><p>Alastor stared hard at his friend, eyes narrowing into slits, only highlighting his ever-creepier grin. “You’d vouch for this complete and utter stranger? You do know how seriously I take my deals, Husk.”</p><p>Angel didn’t know what was going on. Weren’t the two supposed to be partners? He had even been under the impression they were close friends. But right now that wasn’t what he was sensing, but rather something beyond that. Something darker. These men may have been more dangerous than his initial impression had deemed.</p><p>“Yeah yeah, I know. Fuck off already.” Husk flicked his hand in a casual dismissal. Alastor stared at him a beat longer,  then simply shrugged and pulled his glove back on.</p><p>“Very well, so be it. Then let it be on your head Husker, my friend.” Alastor grinned at Husk one more time. He clapped him firmly on the shoulder as if the tense moment had never happened. “Now this has been a rather eventful evening indeed. Welcome aboard, Angel!  Or should I say, Anthony.” Alastor smiled at him and an uncomfortable shiver shot up Angel’s spine, almost unnerved. “There is much to do starting tomorrow. Thus, I will take the opportunity to retire early and will bid you gentlemen goodnight.”</p><p>With a dip of his head, Alastor turned and made his way up a half-destroyed set of stairs Angel hadn’t noticed before and vanished from sight.</p><p>“Where’s he going?” Angel said.</p><p>Husk re-settled, poking absently at the fire. “There are a few small rooms upstairs that we stay in.  I’d be careful to stay clear of his.”</p><p>“I’m not going anywhere near that weird fucker more than I have to.”</p><p>“Quick learner.” Husk chuckled. “It’s best to steer clear of his so-called deals.”</p><p>“Next time, don’t bother.” Angel said, picking up Fat Nuggets who’d fallen asleep on the ground. “I can take care of myself. Have been for a long time already. I don’t need some stranger acting like I’m some useless dame. That’s how you lose respect around these parts.”</p><p>“Like a useless dame?” Husk said and Angel could hear the smirk in his voice. He had to resist tossing out a well-aimed punch at Husk’s perfectly exposed balls.</p><p>“When you look like I do,” Angel snapped, “it doesn’t take much for people to go thinking they’re all better than you. Stronger. Smarter. They can make their assumptions, but I ain’t no delicate flower. I ain’t gonna be walked all over.”</p><p>“Never thought you were. All I’m saying is you’re better off making a deal with the devil.” Husk said. “Trust me.”</p><p>“And why should I do that?”</p><p>Husk shrugged. “Because you’ve got no other choice?”</p><p>In the way that Angel’s instinct said not to trust Alastor, it was strange that he was feeling the opposite with Husk. He was hesitant to trust a word out of his mouth but he’d been pretty blunt and to-the-point. Good guy may have been a stretch, but there was just something more honest and straightforward about him and his gut was telling him he may actually be able to take his word for it. Not that that meant he was just going to.</p><p>“Why would you stick your neck out for me at all?” Angel asked. “He’s right. I’m a complete stranger. You’d be an idiot yourself if you said you trusted me right off the bat either.”</p><p>Husk took longer to reply this time. “Just a feeling.”</p><p>“Just a feeling, huh?” Angel echoed, brow arched. “That usually isn’t how people survive.”</p><p>“Don’t get me wrong.” Husk said. “You try to screw us over in some way and I’ll destroy your ass .”</p><p>“Consider me warned.” Angel said, nearly choking on laughter. He had to bite down on his tongue to keep from saying anything else. <em>Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.</em></p><p>A deep gurgle rumbled in his stomach, loud enough to wake Fat Nuggets back up. Angel massaged it. He’d been so distracted by the unexpected turn of the night that he had forgotten all about his hunger. Not that he would’ve been eating tonight or for the next couple of days if he’d made it back to Val’s anyways.</p><p>Guess he was settling in for the night though. Unconsciousness was always a trusty way to ignore the gnawing emptiness and he’d had a long-ass day. As he tried wedging himself into a corner near the fire, Husk sighed loudly.</p><p>“What are you doing?”</p><p>“Um,” Angel said. “Getting ready to sleep?”</p><p>“Are you an idiot? I already told ya’ we’ve got rooms upstairs. Come on.” Husk said and clattered up the rickety stairs. It took several seconds for Angel to understand, but it was the crude part of his mind that finally registered that Husk was leading him to a bedroom. A little more eager, Angel scooped up Fat Nuggets and climbed up after him.</p><p>Husk led him to a small room. There wasn’t much to it, if anything at all, but at least there was no stray draft. A part of Angel couldn’t help but lament the fact that he’d probably never see his room at the studio again, with all his pretty jewels and clothes and luxuries, but it was a small grief. A small cot was shoved into the corner of the room and a couple of crates had been set up as impromptu counters. Angel wrinkled his nose.</p><p>“Smells like booze.” He lightly kicked at a stray bottle as Husk lit a series of candles, filling the room with soft light. “Hm, romantic.”</p><p>“Shut the fuck up, or I’ll toss you back downstairs.” Husk glared at him, but pulled some blankets from his bed and crossed the room to lay them across the floor.</p><p>“What are you doing?”</p><p>“The fuck does it look like? Making your bed.”</p><p>“You’re making me sleep on the floor? A gentleman would offer the bed.” Angel grimaced and then dared another flirtatious wink, “Or if you want to really get warm, we could share.”</p><p>Husk snorted. “Do I look like a fucking gentleman? And I’d rather sleep naked in the cold .”</p><p>Angel arched a brow. “You’re missing out on a real good time, Husky.”</p><p>“Don’t call me that.”</p><p>After Husk was satisfied with his work, he lumbered back to settle onto his bed. With a slight pout and annoyed grumble, Angel slid to the floor and stripped off his coat, pulling the thin blankets around his shoulders.</p><p>“Damn, do you eat at all? You’re all bones.”</p><p>Angel glared at Husk over his shoulder. “I’m trying to keep a slim figure.”</p><p>“Slim? You’re just all legs.” Husk said. “Not sure how the wind doesn’t just blow you away.”</p><p>“Ha ha.” Angel said dryly.</p><p>“Here.”</p><p> Angel hadn’t expected the sudden pitch of a small bundle and nearly dropped whatever Husk had just tossed at him. Why did he keep throwing things at him without warning? He stared down at the small wrapped up cloth in his hands and glanced at Husk suspiciously.</p><p>“What’s this?”</p><p>“What do you think? It’s food.”</p><p>Untying the small bundle revealed an apple and some stale chunks of bread. He stared at the few morsels for a few seconds.</p><p>“This is all you have?”</p><p>Husk’s sharp glare had Angel ducking to hide a grin. “Just shut the fuck up and eat, Legs. We’ll go out and get more shit tomorrow.”</p><p>“… Alright. Thanks. I guess.” Angel said, rolling the bread in his hands and glancing at him from the corner of his eyes.</p><p>“Don’t get used to it.” Husk said. “I’m not usually this kind.”</p><p>“<em>This </em>is you being kind?”</p><p>Husk rolled his eyes.</p><p>“What about you?” Angel asked hesitantly. Husk stared at him and Angel swallowed. His hazel eyes glowed in the candlelight. They were so intense, so sharp and focused.</p><p>“I already ate.” Was all Husk said before readjusting on his bed, making the springs creak and groan underneath him. He pulled his cap over his eyes and turned so his back was facing him. “I’m going to sleep. Our work starts tomorrow.”</p><p>Angel stared at the back of his head a moment longer before he finally took a bite into the juicy skin of the apple. Only after the first bite did he realize just how hungry he was too. He wolfed the rest of the fruit down to its core and tossed the rest to Fat Nuggets who was happy enough to devour it without complaint as he set to work on the bread. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to ease the bite of hunger. He eased himself onto the floor and let Nuggets nestle into his arms.</p><p>They lay in silence for a few minutes.</p><p>“…You still not gonna offer me the bed?”</p><p>“Go fuck yourself.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next Chapter: In the Dark of the Night</p><p>Thank you for reading! And for my lovely friends who helped me edit :D</p><p>Twitter: @sweetnpinnk</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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